By Megan Carty
Some circumstantial evidence is very strong, as when you find a trout in the milk.
~Henry David Thoreau
One hot summer day my best friend Danielle appeared at my doorstep. She was holding a small lime green tank and inside was her beloved Chinese fighting fish named Lil' Blue. Alongside was her mother with the keys to her house and a long list of instructions. Their family was going away on a three-week vacation and they trusted me to look after their two cats and the fish. This was my first "real" job and I was determined to do an excellent job. I'd walk to their house twice a day to care for the cats, and the fish would remain under my watchful eye on my bedside table. "Don't worry," I called as they drove down the driveway, "I'll take care of them. Your pets are safe with me."
Some circumstantial evidence is very strong, as when you find a trout in the milk.
~Henry David Thoreau
One hot summer day my best friend Danielle appeared at my doorstep. She was holding a small lime green tank and inside was her beloved Chinese fighting fish named Lil' Blue. Alongside was her mother with the keys to her house and a long list of instructions. Their family was going away on a three-week vacation and they trusted me to look after their two cats and the fish. This was my first "real" job and I was determined to do an excellent job. I'd walk to their house twice a day to care for the cats, and the fish would remain under my watchful eye on my bedside table. "Don't worry," I called as they drove down the driveway, "I'll take care of them. Your pets are safe with me."
And I kept true to my word. The fish got fresh water and a tank cleaning on a regular basis, the cats' meals never came a minute late, and the litter box was cleaned daily. Time flew by and before I knew it my job was coming to an end. In just two short days, Danielle and her family would be returning home and greeting their wonderful pets. There would be a twenty-dollar bill with my name on it.
My entire family was gathered on the living room floor playing a game of Cat-opoly, with one of our cats watching intently. Just as I landed on the Cat-astrophe square (what traditional Monopoly players would know as Chance), my other cat dashed onto our game board, knocking over the game pieces. This was not unusual behavior for Abby, as she'd always been rather hyper and carefree. She gently released something onto the game board and then looked up at us with proud eyes. It looked almost like a wet feather sticking to our game. "What is that?" my mother questioned. We all bent forward to get a closer look and not a moment later I heard my mother begin to scream. My sisters joined in and soon after, I too was screaming at the top of my lungs. It was Lil' Blue! He was lying there; limp, with what looked to be not a speck of life left in him. "Abby! How could you! Bad cat!" we were all yelling ferociously. Her head sunk as she ran off as fast as she could. That stupid cat had killed my friend's fish. I couldn't help but cry knowing how disappointed Danielle and her family would be. They trusted me and I had broken my promise in keeping the pets safe.
My mom was the only one who had the composure to swipe that fish up and get it back into water. Lil' Blue just floated on top, his once bright blue colour shifted to gray. I went to my bedroom to check the crime scene. It appeared that the fish tank had been knocked off my table and all of its water had drained out. "Megan," my mom hollered, "Get back here!" I quickly ran to the bathroom and noticed Lil' Blue finally starting to quiver and move. Slowly but surely, his colour returned. By the end of the night he was swimming around healthily as if nothing had happened. This was surely a miracle, I thought to myself.
But it wasn't a miracle that happened that day. It was the kind, thoughtful heart of Abby that saved the fish. Clearly the tank had been knocked over. How? We would never know. Abby was probably playing around or something. Regardless, the fish was rescued. Abby brought him directly to us. She left no bite marks, not even the tiniest dent, in his gills. It would have been so easy for her to just savor him as a light snack or leave him on the floor for me to find later on. But Abby wasn't the evil cat we made her out to be; she was a hero that day and I will always feel sorry for yelling at and blaming her.
In the end, I got Lil' Blue back home to Danielle safe and sound. He lived on for more than two years after that. I cannot thank Abby enough for her choice to save the fish that day. This cat taught me two very important lessons: One being that things aren't always how they appear and you should never blame someone for something without knowing all of the facts. And two, be careful where you leave the fish tank.
My entire family was gathered on the living room floor playing a game of Cat-opoly, with one of our cats watching intently. Just as I landed on the Cat-astrophe square (what traditional Monopoly players would know as Chance), my other cat dashed onto our game board, knocking over the game pieces. This was not unusual behavior for Abby, as she'd always been rather hyper and carefree. She gently released something onto the game board and then looked up at us with proud eyes. It looked almost like a wet feather sticking to our game. "What is that?" my mother questioned. We all bent forward to get a closer look and not a moment later I heard my mother begin to scream. My sisters joined in and soon after, I too was screaming at the top of my lungs. It was Lil' Blue! He was lying there; limp, with what looked to be not a speck of life left in him. "Abby! How could you! Bad cat!" we were all yelling ferociously. Her head sunk as she ran off as fast as she could. That stupid cat had killed my friend's fish. I couldn't help but cry knowing how disappointed Danielle and her family would be. They trusted me and I had broken my promise in keeping the pets safe.
My mom was the only one who had the composure to swipe that fish up and get it back into water. Lil' Blue just floated on top, his once bright blue colour shifted to gray. I went to my bedroom to check the crime scene. It appeared that the fish tank had been knocked off my table and all of its water had drained out. "Megan," my mom hollered, "Get back here!" I quickly ran to the bathroom and noticed Lil' Blue finally starting to quiver and move. Slowly but surely, his colour returned. By the end of the night he was swimming around healthily as if nothing had happened. This was surely a miracle, I thought to myself.
But it wasn't a miracle that happened that day. It was the kind, thoughtful heart of Abby that saved the fish. Clearly the tank had been knocked over. How? We would never know. Abby was probably playing around or something. Regardless, the fish was rescued. Abby brought him directly to us. She left no bite marks, not even the tiniest dent, in his gills. It would have been so easy for her to just savor him as a light snack or leave him on the floor for me to find later on. But Abby wasn't the evil cat we made her out to be; she was a hero that day and I will always feel sorry for yelling at and blaming her.
In the end, I got Lil' Blue back home to Danielle safe and sound. He lived on for more than two years after that. I cannot thank Abby enough for her choice to save the fish that day. This cat taught me two very important lessons: One being that things aren't always how they appear and you should never blame someone for something without knowing all of the facts. And two, be careful where you leave the fish tank.
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